The Meta morphosis
by Vamprixxle
Summary: (Based off of Franz Kafka's work.) Waking up one morning, Loki Odinson finds himself to be a hideous blue monster- and with this change, it turns his life upside down, his family away, and into a living, lonely hell. When found again, a curious agent and brave woman try to find out what exactly happened to him.


**Hello all! This will be my 3rd story on a Avengers/Loki fic. It is based off the short story _The Metamorphosis_ by Franz Kafka. It's a great story that I recently read in High school and I decided to take the idea into Loki. While it is a copy of the idea, the story will not end quite the same. **

**I do not own Thor, The Avengers, or any Marvel characters, and I have the greatest respect for Kafka and his work and is no way this mine.**

**Please enjoy! I hope for those who have read _The Metamorphosis_ you will catch the similarities. **

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"_If I shall exist eternally, how shall I exist tomorrow?" – Franz Kafka_

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When Loki Odinson had woken up that morning, he was a blue, _cold_, and with heavy, heavy horns on his head.

He could see his breath when he huffed- even though his room was not at all cold. But he was cold, and yet, he wasn't. Looking at his hands, they were blue like ice in oceans with strange, tribal like markings on his main skin, stretching to his arms, chest, neck, head, and then all the way down to his feet. To shock, he looked around the room- expecting something else to be abnormal like him.

But everything was in order, his many books untouched and organized on shelves, his nightstand glowing with a white tea scented candle, and his windows closed in gold and green curtains, blocking out the suns light. Everything was normal- so why was he blue? Surely a bad dream- or perhaps a lingering dream, his mind playing tricks on him even though he was awake.

Upon examining his room and all its peace, he sees important scrolls that he had to return to the high court of his father. For a long time now, Loki Odinson had been working as an apprentice to the Kings advisors and magicians. To this thought he gasps—runs out of his bed, and opens the curtains to reveal the sun fully set in the sky. No! He had slept in! He was late to his duties!

He found himself hissing to the sky- as if that would solve his problems. Grunting at his strange actions, he made his way to his bathing room to only stop and stare in the giant mirrors that were around him.

Wh… what had happened to him?

Despite his obvious blue skin and horns, the biggest thing he noticed was his red, red eyes. They spelled blood and lies within them. So much different than his calm green ones.

As if the mirror was going to attack him, he moves cautiously closer and closer, until his nose was inches away from the glass. He touched his body carefully, first tracing his deep scar marks along his arms and to his stretching neck, and then he grasped his horns and pulled- OW! Okay- they were real. Real as the skull behind his face.

How could he make it to work like this?

He touched the mirror and made a shaky breath, just… just staring at himself. Was this him? This wasn't a dream?

How could he make it to work like this?

Father said to never be late.

When he took his hand away, he realized there was a light glaze of frost over the glass he had touched.

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He bathed and thought about the decision he had to make. Surely he was late as can be, so should he even go to his master and report? Were 'sick' days allowed?

Thinking of work he found himself making a very sour face. He hated being treated as a slave for these old, tired men who had no idea of what the Kingdom wanted. They spoke of old powerful magic and yet never showed him- saying it was sinful. But how could a young liesmith learn the ways of ancient spells if he could not see them? And yet his father and mother _needed_ him to do this. They needed their _other_ son to express his ways and contribute to the kingdom.

But nobody cared. At the end of the day he'd report to mother (since she seemed like the only one who cared) and complain on how the old birds couldn't show or teach him anything. In the end, he was bringing them food and running around the castle like an idiot, all while his older brother was training to be a great warrior with his friends.

Mother simply nodded and said that everyone had their duty. When he tried to show mother what he had accomplished in his magic abilities, she made a face and waved her hand as a 'no'.

Magic wasn't appropriate to her. Not unless it was a healing or wellness spell…

But one of the worst things that he found in this job is that he couldn't make friends. Not that he had much in his childhood up to his teen years- but now he was plagued with traveling work and slithering around old men, doing what they wanted. It was awful.

"But someday I will make head Magician along with Thor as King, and we will turn this Kingdom around for the better of Asgard. Mother and Father will be proud of my contribution to their family. With this stupid work comes great fortune."

That's what Mother and Father and Thor wanted. To have good fortune to their family. It had always been so and they wanted to keep it that way.

…..With all this thought he found himself in a rush to get ready- or rather trying to get ready. Whenever he put his clothes on they became horribly tight and uncomfortable- cold like his skin and soon to be covered in frost. But how could he go to work as a naked, blue man?

Cursing in Old Norse he tried and tried again, all the while he also organized his scrolls in his back.

Suddenly while he tried to get himself together, there was a knock at the door.

"Loki, won't you be late? Why- you're already late! Dear son, you must hurry." Her words were calm but stern. Loki nodded, responding with a un-familiar chirp of, "_Yes mother, I'm coming. I will be off soon._"

Oh- was he ill? Why was his voice so… so…

"Loki? Loki?" Frigga kept calling. "Loki please- do not toy with these men. They have little patience despite their old age."

Before he knew it, his whole family was at the door. Thor, Father, and dearest Mother- all urging him to come out and go to work. But why wasn't Thor at work? Oh yes- because he didn't work.

"_If you all could leave me be I will be out soon enough."_

"Loki, son, what is wrong with your voice? Are you ill?"

"My son, are you alright?"

"You must come out Loki. Do not play these games."

"If you are ill you must tell them so."

Loki.

Loki.

Loki.

"_PLEASE—if you all could just-!"_

But then there was another voice in the background. One far and coming near.

"Is something wrong?"

Was that one of the elders!? Had they sent someone because Loki was so late?!

Frigga made a small gasp and the trio huddled somewhere other than infront of his door. Loki cursed loudly within his room, trying to get clothes on and failing. These horns made his head feel so heavy- Was this what rams felt like?

"Loki, Loki come out dear. The head elder is here to see if something is wrong." Frigga begged, knocking on his door once more. "Please?"

"_Mother- if you'd just let me be, I will come out. I promise."_

"My-" The elder spoke, "My, he sounds sickly."

"He was not ill yesterday." Odin said.

"The worst illness happens quick and without warning." Thor said out loud, causing Frigga to worry and squawk more. "Loki please, are you ill? Why- you sound so rough but meek. Oh goodness, what if he's ill?"

"_I can assure you all everything is alright!"_ Loki insisted, _"Please I will come out. My elder, I am sorry I have delayed our work today. I'll be on my way. I swear-"_

Loki emerged from the door, only some loose under armor on his blue legs.

All he really remembered was a scream from his mother- and the elder stepping back with disgust, and Odin yelling for Thor. That was all he could recall for being slapped in the head with something heavy, and falling to the floor in near dead sleep.

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**Again, I encourage you all to read the Novella _The Metamorphosis_ by Franz Kafka. Really sad and great story.**

**Please review!**


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